The Excuse
by OptimisticGirl
Summary: Killian Jones had seen many excuses for late assignments in his short teaching career but the one currently sitting in his inbox was by far the most extensive he had ever seen. [Teacher/Student]


**I honest to God have no idea what this is. A Buzzfeed article came across my newsfeed and my brain did that thing (every writer in this fandom knows what I mean) and with enabling from one xpumpkindumplingx, this came about. Again, no idea what this is. It is teacher/student so if that's not your jam feel free to give it a hard pass. The events that happen would not happy in real life but... fiction, right? Many thanks to Sparantguard for looking over this for me!**

 **As always, enjoy, and reviews feed the muse (especially when it's been forever since she posted anything).**

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Killian Jones had seen many excuses for late assignments in his short teaching career.

A death in the family (a viable one, of course, except that one student whose grandmother died eight times in one semester) or the fact they were in a family member's wedding and completely forgot about the assignment, even though every assignment he gave was on the course syllabus his students received on the first day of class. There was the one where they thought it was due another week (again, his course syllabus had the dates for all assignments) and the trickster excuse that it was showing in their sent email but not his inbox - like he was the seventy-year-old Mrs. Lucas who didn't know how e-mail worked. Sickness of some sort was another one, although he doubted the one student had _really_ had walking pneumonia but been able to drink his fellow classmates under the table that same night at the football game. His personal favorites were the dog had eaten their ten-page research essay and a tv show had left them emotionally compromised. He watched Doctor Who as well and while he could sympathize with their pain after the Doomsday episode, it still wasn't a practical excuse.

But the one currently sitting in his inbox was by far the most extensive he had ever seen.

It was from Emma Swan, a student in his 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM European Literature class. They had been assigned a twelve- page essay to discuss the differences in three nineteenth century writers and how they contributed to the modern era of writing as their final project, one he had given them an _extensive_ amount of time to work on in class around their other assignments. He wasn't surprised to see an email from her telling him her essay was going to be late (he had four other ones sitting in his inbox currently and the deadline was only forty-five minutes ago) but the content of her message had both of his eyebrows rising the more he read.

 _Dear Professor Jones,_

 _I am so sorry for how late I am in submitting this assignment._

 _I swear I was not one of those students who procrastinated until the last second and wasn't able to finish it during a last-ditch all nighter. I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday morning and while that's probably the sorriest excuse you've ever been given for an assignment being late, it's not the reason I wasn't able to turn mine in on time. You see, on top of finding out he had been cheating on me I also discovered he had not been paying the rent on our apartment for some time, which was odd considering I gave him the money to do so every month. So after chucking everything he owned into a large pile in front of his place of business I returned home to find the final eviction notice on the door. Apparently he had been hiding those from me as well. After a very unsuccessful chat with the landlord I was forced to move my entire apartment in less than eight hours while I also taking two hour-long exams (thank God for good friends, right?)._

 _I then received information that a skip I had been chasing for four months was in the area (you and I have talked about my bail bonds career extensively) and considering I now had to come up with a security deposit and first month's rent for a new apartment, I sat outside a seedy nightclub for a good four hours to nab him. Then on the way home from depositing his sorry behind in the local jail, my car broke down and my brother had to come pick me up. By the time I got back to his house it was three o'clock in the morning and I fell asleep on my keyboard (even with four cups of coffee) while trying to complete my conclusion, which was the last thing that needed to be written for the essay._

 _I know this is right up there with 'my dog ate my homework' but yesterday was a complete mess and I did not account for such a time consuming hiccup (or three) to affect me getting the assignment done before the 8 AM deadline. I sincerely apologize and will fully accept the loss of a letter grade._

 _This has been extremely long and I'm sure uncomfortable for you to read. Believe me, it is was for me to write it._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emma Swan_

Killian sat back in his desk chair and took a sip from the Captain Hook mug that had been a Christmas gift from the school's librarian, Belle French. Well, it was certainly the most elaborate reason he had ever been given for a late assignment. With any other student, he would have given them an A for creativity and rolled his eyes while making a notation to dock them a letter grade but this _was_ Swan. She had never turned an assignment in late for his class all semester, sometimes even a week before their deadline, and was by far one of his best students. She was always present and interactive in their class discussions (which was saying something when 45% of his class was either on some form of social media or asleep despite the late time), and had shown she was really taking in the material with her well-thought out and in-depth papers.

Setting his cup down, he hit the reply button and began to type.

 _Dear Emma,_

 _I am very sorry to hear about everything that happened. It sounds like you might have dodged a bullet with the end of that relationship, even if you are having to search for a new place to live. And I have been saying all semester that you need a more reliable mode of transportation (how your skips have never spotted you in that bright monstrosity, I will never know). It's good to know you have family to help you through this, however._

 _Life happens, as they say. Considering your record in my class and the fact that your excuse is the first one I've received that is a genuine reason to turn the assignment in late, I will not be docking you a letter grade for it. I look forward to seeing how you compared Dickens, Austen, and Yeats._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Professor Jones_

Biting his lip, Killian stared at the blinking cursor after his name. He really should end it there, a silent thanks for her being one of the best students he had ever had and grade her assignment, probably to never see her again except for a flitting glance if she ever had a class in this building. It was the right thing to do, anyway. But there was also the little fact that he had grown to like her more than was acceptable for their teacher/student relationship.

How could he not? She was an absolute vision at the front of his class every Tuesday and Thursday night, her breathtaking beauty enhanced by her green eyes and blonde hair that she sometimes wore down or in a no nonsense ponytail. Her laugh had instantly captivated him and the passion she had shown for learning, even on a subject that truly had nothing to do with her own eventual career, had awoken something in him he thought long ago dead after hundreds of uninterested students had crossed his doorway. She reminded him of why he had gone into teaching in the first place (the salary was _clearly_ not the reason) and had made him a better teacher.

He had also enjoyed their conversations on the twenty minute walk to her car. She could more than take care of herself - her line of work spoke to that - but the gentleman his brother had raised demanded he at least escort her through the darkened parking lot. It had been out of his way but it had been worth it to hear her voice for a little bit longer two nights a week. At first, she had been guarded, he doing most of the talking and her very rarely giving any personal details. Over time, she pened up to him, and by the end of their last class, he knew she had an older brother who was in law enforcement (the reason she was pursuing a career in criminal justice), her favorite caffeinated drink, and that she had spent most of her life in and out of foster homes, sometimes separated from her brother.

The outfits she had sometimes worn to his class didn't help his burgeoning feelings for her. He knew she wore them because she chased down bail jumpers afterward but he had been powerless not to appreciate them (along with every male student). Tight dresses that showed off miles of legs and copious amounts of cleavage, short skirts and what could only be described as 'fuck me' heels. If her intellect had given him a new lease on teaching, then her physical attire had surely driven him to distraction. It wasn't a one-way distraction, however. He saw the way her eyes would linger on him, especially when he forewent a vest and only wore a button down shirt and dress pants. The day he had worn jeans and a plaid shirt thanks to a mishap with coffee and the klutzy Professor Anna, he thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head, and he hadn't imagined the pretty blush that crept into her cheeks when he dropped the dry eraser marker and bent down to retrieve it.

He wasn't such a recluse bachelor that he didn't know when a member of the fairer sex was interested in him.

He hadn't made a move toward her though, respecting the fact that she had a boyfriend and not wanting to jeopardize either of their reputations by engaging in an affair while he was her teacher. He had seen first-hand how _that_ could end. Not that a relationship between them would have been wrong from a legal standpoint. She was twenty-eight, five years younger than his age of thirty-three but ethically he couldn't bring himself to take that step when he would hold more power in the relationship. She was single now though, and their teacher/student relationship would come to an end as soon as he inputted her final grade…

Deciding to take his brother's advice - _"Take a chance, Killian"_ \- he hit enter twice and added a postscript.

 _P.S. Seems like a good time to go to Europe. Would you like to join me?_

(Turns out, she did. And come September, he was the one giving an excuse to his class on the first day when a criminal justice major who had become his girlfriend while they visited England made him late to class.)

(It was totally worth it for the extra thirty minutes she kept him in bed.)


End file.
